Hoarding, or Food for the Soul
by flashwitch
Summary: It starts with Clint and a packet of biscuits slipped into a pocket. Tony notices things, he catalogues things. And he slowly becomes resigned to living with a group of people who hoard and hide food. It doesn't help that he has his own issues.
1. Chapter 1

**Issues with food.  
This was going to be a five and one team ensemble fic, but apparently Tony hijacks everything I do at the moment, attention hog that he is.  
Also, Tony is apparently group shrink or something, *shrugs*. (he just likes fixing things).**

* * *

Tony noticed it with Clint first. He wasn't exactly subtle, not like the others. But then, when Clint did it, it didn't look deliberate. It looked like he had no idea what he was doing. They'd be talking, or laughing, or cooking, and Clint's hand would just reach out, seemingly of its own accord. He'd get a handful or a packet and whatever he'd grabbed would be squirreled away into his pockets.

Tony just filed it away. It wasn't any stranger than Thor getting into a fight with the microwave, or Steve spending half an hour trying to turn the TV on. It was just something that Clint did.

Then the air conditioning stopped working in Tony's lab.

"JARVIS?" He pushed up the welding mask and wiped the sweat from his forehead. "Is it getting hot in here or is it just me?"

"It's not you, sir, I assure you. The temperature has risen five degrees."

"Hmm." He turned off the torch, and set it down on a cooling mat. "Any idea what's going on?"

"There appears to be a blockage in the ducts."

"Okay. Where?" A holographic map appeared in front of him, showing the location of the problem. Tony grabbed his tool-belt and climbed up into the nearest vent.

* * *

When he found Clint's nest, because that's what it was; a nest, he wasn't sure what to think. He'd been expecting a collapse or a build up of debris. But instead...

There was a pile of blankets and pillows, and enough food to survive an apocalypse.

"Huh. Not what I was expecting."

"Sir?"

"JARVIS, there's a nest in here."

"A nest, sir? Of what animal?"

"A hawk. Patch me through to Clint."

"Certainly, sir."

"Clint?"

"Hey, Tony. What's up?"

"Can you meet me in my workshop? I need to talk to you."

"Sure. I'll be there in a few minutes."

Tony backed his way through the vent system back to his workshop. It wasn't actually that far away, and part of him was pleased that Clint's safe place was so near to him. He wasn't sure if it was deliberate or not, but either way, it made him all warm and fuzzy inside.

* * *

He got back to the workshop about thirty seconds before Clint showed up, which didn't really give him chance to figure out how to address the situation.

"So, I'm here. What's up?"

"Uh, I wasn't snooping. Seriously. It's just, my air conditioning stopped working. And JARVIS said there was a blockage, and..."

"Oh shit." Clint sat heavily down on one of the nearby swivel chairs.

"I mean, it's fine, you know. I built the vents specifically to your weight and width so you could climb around in there. Natasha may have given me a few hints, but I noticed you liked heights and confined spaces. Figured it would be a good idea to give you somewhere to play. So hang out in there all you like."

"But stop making nests?" Clint asked sheepishly, and Tony smiled hearing his word for the hideaway being used back at him.

"Make nests, but make them smaller maybe? I mean, it only became a problem today." He picked up a random object from his desk (even he wasn't sure what it did) and began to fiddle. "And, I've got to ask. What's with the food? I figured you'd been having midnight feasts or something when I saw you slipping biscuits into your pockets." He looked down at his hands. "You know I'm not going to cut you off, right?"

"I know that. Really. I don't even notice I'm doing it." He ran a hand through his hair. "Shit, Tony. Are we actually having a chick flick moment? You want to exchange tragic backstories?"

"God no. But if you want to talk..." Tony shrugged and turned away, attacking the doodad he'd picked up with a screwdriver.

For a long time, it was quiet.

"I ran away when I was a kid, me and my big brother. And this was after a few years in foster care, but we ran away to join the circus." Tony smirked, and Clint snorted. "Yeah, I know it's a cliché. But that's what happened. we didn't always have enough to go round. And if I screwed up in the ring, Trick- the guy who taught me to use my bow, he would take away my food. I learned to keep some around, just in case."

"Okay."

"Okay? I pour my heart out and you say okay?"

"Yeah. Okay. You want to have caches. A backup plan. I get that. Just, be careful where you put them."

"I can do that." Clint rubbed the back of his neck, and then got up. "Tony, thanks."

"Don't mention it. Seriously." He glanced up and grinned at Clint and got a grin back.

Clint left and Tony went back to tinkering. Half an hour later, JARVIS reported the blockage in the ducts had been cleared, and the temperature in the workshop dropped abruptly.

"JARVIS, order a crate of that cereal that Clint likes. And pull up the air duct designs. I want to see if I can put in a little more room."

"Of course, sir."


	2. Chapter 2

When Tony saw Steve doing it, his first thought was that it was a joke. A mean, cruel spirited joke. That somehow Rogers had figured out about Clint, and was making fun of him. In his defence, Tony didn't really know Steve that well yet. In fact, this could be seen as the beginning of their friendship, in a weird way.

Thankfully, Tony didn't just walk up to Steve and confront him. He vaguely remembered his dad telling him that there was nothing Captain America hated more than bullies, so this meanness didn't really fit. And Tony was thorough at testing hypotheses before acting on them. Well, he was thorough when people other than him were involved anyway.

Maybe, Tony thought, it's just Steve's metabolism. The guy needs about five times as much food as a regular person. Maybe Tony just wasn't catering enough for him. So, the next meal the team ate together, Tony ordered twice as much Chinese as he usually did. And he ended up with a fair bit of leftovers. In fact, the entire team was giving him odd looks for ordering so much. He waved it off, said it was just a mistake. But he kept watching Steve.

Then Tony decided that Steve just wanted to avoid the rest of the group. That he wanted a supply of food in his room so that he could hide away whenever he didn't feel up to company. But that didn't sit right either. Not really. Steve was the one who had made 'family night' mandatory.

"JARVIS?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Where's Steve?"

"He's in the kitchen with Dr Banner, sir."

"Hmm. Let me know if he heads back to his room?"

"Very well." JARVIS' voice was slightly disapproving, but Tony ignored that.

* * *

It turned out Steve spent a hell of a lot of time with the other members of the team. Whenever Tony checked his location, he was sparring with Thor, listening to music with Natasha, baking (baking?) with Clint. So the whole storing food so he could avoid eating with the team obviously wasn't right. In fact, according to JARVIS Steve hadn't missed a group meal since he moved in. (So it was just Tony he was avoiding then. Great.) Which Tony would maybe have known if he hadn't missed all but the mandatory meals.

It wasn't like he meant to. It's just, he doesn't always think about things like food, especially when he's in the middle of a project. And if he does think about food, it's usually not when other people think about food. Besides, he had a whole crate of MREs and Power Bars in his workshop. He didn't actually _need_ to ever go up and eat with the others. He didn't understand them anyway. Except Clint, and Bruce. Clint was his bro, and Bruce was his science bro, but the others? Tony just didn't get them.

He walked over to the cupboard and opened it, looking at the boxes of food and bottles of water he had stocked there. There was a fridge next to the cupboard, bursting with chocolate, energy drinks and expensive coffee beans. It wasn't like he had a problem. It wasn't like he was Clint or something, afraid his meals would be taken away. It was just more practical. He was down in his lab a lot after all. And when he was working on a project he needed to be down there for days on end, and if he didn't keep a stock of easy to eat, nutritional food around, he really would starve to death.

He made the decision right then to make more of an effort.

"JARVIS, let me know when the others are gathering for food."

"Certainly, sir."

* * *

When JARVIS alerted him, Tony was so deep in a project that it took him a minute to understand what's going on. When he figured it out, he washed his hands and headed up to the communal floor. When he got there, he paused in the hallway, shuffling his feet. He felt uncharacteristically shy. He shouldn't feel shy. This was his tower after all. But they were all in there. They were all in there, and they were eating dinner in the way that they had done a hundred times. Without him. Would he be intruding?

He was actually turning to leave when he literally bumped into Bruce. They caught each other's forearms, and Bruce laughed a little.

"Easy, Tony. You okay?"

"Yeah. I was." Tony stepped back from Bruce and looked away. "I was just going back down to the workshop."

"Oh."

"Yeah, so." He made to push past the other scientist.

"We were just about to eat dinner. You should come eat."

"No, I don't... I'll get something later."

"There's always a place set for you," Bruce said quietly as Tony walked away. That stopped Tony in his tracks.

"I don't..."

"Come on. Please."

Tony sighed, put on his 'company face' and turned back around.

"Fine, let's do this."

* * *

Bruce walked through the door first, and Tony followed in his shadow. He hunched his shoulders in. He hadn't slept in 48 hours and hadn't eaten in over 24. He was so not ready for this.

"Hey, look who I found!"

"Tony!"

"Hey!"

"Man of Iron!"

"Hey guys, what's cooking?" He smiled one of his best business smiles as he sat down at the empty place, and he noticed Natasha frown out of the corner of his eye. His smile faltered slightly.

"Steve's cooking today. Pot roast," Clint told him.

"Awesome."

And so they ate. No one mentioned how Tony was sitting with them for the first time without someone forcing him to be there (every Thursday at 7). A wave of warm conversation surrounded the table and Tony found himself drifting. He mechanically lifted his fork from plate to mouth and chewed slowly.

"Tony?" A heavy hand landed on his shoulder and he blinked slowly. Steve was standing over him, holding a pile of dirty dishes in one hand. No one else was sitting at the table. The food was all gone, except for the small amount left on Tony's plate. "Are you finished?"

"Um. Yeah. I guess. Sorry. It was nice."

"Don't worry about it. You're tired." He took Tony's plate and cutlery and put them, along with the other dishes, into the sink. "I'm glad you joined us."

"I wasn't going to."

"Oh. Well, I am glad you did."

"Why? You don't even like me." This was why Tony locked himself away in his lab. When he was sleepy his brain to mouth filter shut down.

"I do like you, Tony. I just don't know you very well."

"I don't know you either. You spend all day with the others, you go out of your way to spend time with them."

"You lock yourself in your workshop all day and night!"

"I gave you all the codes. And it's not locked, actually." Tony sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. "Ignore me. I'm tired."

"Why do you spend all your time in there if you aren't avoiding us?" Steve's voice had a tone to it that a more aware Tony would have noted as dangerous.

"I have too much to do. Pepper gave back the CEO-ship when we broke up. And I am head of R and D at Stark Industries too. I have to keep going, to keep the edge. Then there's the management of the tower and the repairs, not to mention the adaptations to everyone's floors. I have to keep updating the armour too, and repairing it. Clint asked me to look at his bow, and I'm improving Natasha's body suit. I'm also trying to design pants that won't rip when Bruce hulks out, but that is _not _going well. And then there's trying to figure out why you keep stealing food." Tony sighed, not even realising what he was saying. "There aren't enough hours in the day."

He let his head fall forward to rest on the table in the space where his plate had been.

"Tony, come on. Let's get you to bed." He was pulled to his feet and an arm was wrapped around him.

"I thought you were making fun of Clint. That you knew about him taking food and that you were making fun of him."

There was a long pause as Steve guided him along the corridor.

"I'm not a bully."

"I know. Was a stupid idea."

"I grew up in the Depression. Then rationing. I just... I like to know where my next meal is coming from."

Another long pause.

"I totally should have thought of that." Steve laughed.

"Yeah. maybe if you weren't working yourself to the bone." They took the lift up to Tony's rooms, and Steve guided him to the bed. "I'm sorry I didn't come down to your workshop. We all thought that was your space. That you didn't want us there. And I'm sorry I didn't realise you and Miss Potts had split. I'll come and see you tomorrow if that's alright."

"Sure," Tony thought he said, but he couldn't be certain, as he pretty much fell asleep right then.


	3. Chapter 3

When Steve actually showed up at the workshop the next day, Tony wasn't sure what to do. Luckily, Dummy broke the ice. Actually, he broke the glass of lemonade that Steve placed at Tony's elbow, but it had the same effect. They talked for a while, and Steve promised to talk to Fury about Tony's work load. He also promised to talk to Pepper. As she had gone back to being Tony's assistant, but now that they'd dated she had become so distant that Tony was pretty sure she hated him. Not that he told Steve that, but Steve just knew. He also guesed that Pepper had been piling work on Tony to stop him self destructiing after the break-up. Tony agreed.

"Although, if that was her plan it kind of back-fired!" Tony laughed bitterly and went to fix himself a smoothie. He half expected Steve to leave at that point, but instead the other man just pulled out a drawing pad and sat down to sketch Dummy.

* * *

That started a steady stream of Avengers. Tony would turn around and find Clint perching on top of the tool cupboard, or Natasha calmly sharpening a knife. Thor, Coulson, Bruce, they all showed up and just made themselves at home in Tony's space. It was...nice.

Being dragged to dinner every night was not so nice. But he got used to it. And it did allow him to notice Natasha. She didn't do it as often as Steve, or as blatantly as Clint, but she was taking food too. At this point, he was pretty much resigned to living with a bunch of kleptomaniac hoarders. But it was still interesting. The only times Tony had really, truly been hungry, had happened when he had been kidnapped. He couldn't imagine having been so hungry for so long that he couldn't trust if and when he could get his next meal.

"It's not about that," Natasha said, startling him. He hadn't realised she was there. He also hadn't realised he'd been voicing his thoughts aloud. "Not for me. Maybe for Clint, Steve. Bruce."

"Bruce?"

"He lived hand to mouth for years."

"Right, right. I knew that." And he did, but sometimes it was difficult for him to remember that Bruce hadn't always been there, being his science bro.

"I think Thor's the only one of us who doesn't have some kind of issue with it." Which made Tony wonder what Coulson's issue was. "Although given the amount he eats..." she trailed off with a suggestive smirk. Tony smirked back and waited for her to continue. "For them, it's about knowing they aren't going to starve. For me it's not about that though."

"What's it about?"

"Making sure the food is safe. Having safe food in case it's not."

"Safe?"

"You know about The Red Room." He did. He'd hacked the SHIELD personnel files. He knew she'd been raised there. He knew it was not a good place.

"Yeah."

"They put things in the food sometimes."

"Oh."

* * *

They sat in silence for a long time. Tony marvelled at her strength. She came in here and bared her wounds just to satisfy his curiosity. He couldn't do that. He could barely talk about his wounds, and here she was doing it so calmly and in control...

That's when he noticed her hands were shaking.

He scrambled, trying to think of something, anything he could do. He wanted to hug her, but he was worried she wouldn't react well to touch at this point.

"I'm sorry." He winced as he said it. He knew it wasn't enough. "I don't like water." Now why did he go and say that? "And I don't like being handed things. I may not have issues with food, but I do understand."

"You? You don't have issues with food?" She smiled. "You would never eat at all if we didn't make you!"

And then everything was alright again. He let the tension flow out of him with a sigh.

"Come on. It's Thor's turn to cook. I'm expecting a platter full of Pop Tarts and a flagon of Asgardian Mead!" He took her hand and pulled her towards the door, towards dinner, towards their family.


End file.
